Thursday, June 10, 2010

Urbane and erudite are two words often used to describe Christopher Hitchens (drunk and boorish are two others you see a lot from the anti-Hitchens camp). I admit I am a sucker for his buttery accent and glib intellectual arrogance.

But what to make of this passage from his newly released memoir, Hitch-22?

She [Hitchens's mother] never liked any of my girlfriends, ever, but her criticisms were sometimes quite pointed ("Honestly darling, she's madly sweet and everything but she does look a bit like a pit-pony.") yet she never made me think that she was one of those mothers who can't surrender their sons to another female.

When it comes to syntactical eloquence, I don't presume to be on the same level as Professor Hitchens (although I flatter myself to believe I could hold my own with him, glass for glass, in an alehouse of his choosing). But I confess I am bumfuzzled by this construction.

First of all--and most obviously--isn't it the rule that a statement in parentheses has internal punctuation only if it's a stand-alone sentence? Besides that, however, the successive clauses beginning with but and yet just don't make the right music. If I may, Dr. Hitchens...

She never liked any of my girlfriends, ever. Her criticisms were sometimes quite pointed ("honestly darling, she's madly sweet and everything but she does look a bit like a pit-pony"), yet she never made me think...

Better, no? I'm going to assume that Hitchens, who I understand likes to work deep into the wee hours, was well in his cups when composing that passage, and no editor felt up to the task of challenging him on it. But I'm well into the Shiraz now myself, and I belch out a hearty, "J'accuse!"